Born Into Blood
by NationalThespian
Summary: How much can one man endure before he is driven to insanity. Very OOC
1. Introduction

**A/N, all content pretaining to Twilight book series is owned by Stephanie Meyer. The storyline, however is mine. **

Insanity: The condition of being insane, a derangement of the mind. Some people believe that it is a condition that you are born with. Others believe that you are driven into madness either by a traumatic event or a slow downfall. However, given the possibility that both are correct and you need to have the right foundation for a final transformation into the abyss then how much can one man truly endure before his mind finally snaps?

Throughout the centuries, stories have been told to children all over; stories of heroic men and women who combat evil until their last breath, and stories of murderous and vile villains that chill the soul. Stories such as Dracula, Beowulf, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, and Frankenstein have all held the attention of children around the world and made their imaginations run wild with visions of selfless acts and dastardly deeds.

There is one story that will never be told to children; one story that encompasses the greatest of good and worst of evil. It is a story that will never be written down again, for the content is such that the average person would not be able to comprehend the choices made, nor the intricate details and planning that went into the seemingly random occurrences held within. It is a dark chronicle, full of hate and anger, but it also contains love and compassion. It is a tale for the ages that can hardly be put into words. This, my friends, is the story Dr. Edward Anthony Cullen.

Seething

It crawled into my skin,

Where blood once flowed,

Began a descent into a place,

Through my veins deep within.

Each step a confession on my face.

Toward my mind, evil, it crept,

Delusions take over my brain,

On pulses of unreasoning it stepped,

Where madness fell on bruises of pain.

Oh silent crypt be mine for silence haunts me so.

My beast, my father, you own be forevermore.

Insanity lies seething, depths so shallow.

Touch my thoughts with aberrant rapport.

Such echos fall as footfalls I once knew

Could these footsteps resonate in you?

**A/N: This is just the introduction to the story. I am going back from a existing story that I had already written and adding and changing however, chapter one should be up in no time. Please Review, this is my first attempt at FF, and I have never had anyone read any fiction work that I have done in the past. Holla'. NT**


	2. The Beginning

**A/N All content pertaining to Twilight Saga, aka character names and descriptions, are property of Stephanie Meyer. The story belongs to me.**

_March 17, 1883_

Today would have seemed like any other day. But if you were to look closer you would find that for some a single day, a single minute, a single event could alter the course of fate and life and you know it. The sun would not show her face as the constant fog rested all over the ground. The steady rain of the morning had finally slowed to a slight drizzle, as the chill of the evening winds began to set in from the west. All throughout the city of London, children ran home after visits after school with classmates, workers finished the last of their work, and families began to gather for their evening meals. All families, that is, except for one household near Primrose Hill.

The house was a large two story stone with an iron gate at the entrance leading up the drive. It was all gray, which solidly expressed it occupants. You would assume that there would be something about the house that would have made it welcoming or light, however, there was nothing of that nature found here. The garden surrounding the back portion of the house, even in all its glory seemed to be lacking in life. There was a constant lighting all throughout the interior, that no matter how many windows were open nor how bright the sun was shining, could seem to add vigor to the expansive house. The foyer was large and slightly medieval with halls leading to the kitchen, the drawing room, library, servants stairs and main stair case leading to the second floor. The upstairs was a continuation of the mahogany and darkness found throughout the first, and had two sitting rooms, and four bedrooms. The room at the far hall, however, was always shut and locked.

This household was bustling with excitement and nervousness, for Duchess Esme Cullen was pregnant with her first child, and was ready to deliver the babe into the world. Maids and servants hurried to the Master Bedroom with pails of hot water and bundles of towels and rags, while Duke Carlisle Cullen, sat quietly alone in the library, reading Shakespeare and sipping a glass of red wine imported from the south of France. He heard the screams, and he knew of his wife's pain, but when you are an aristocrat, the man of the house must keep his composure even when those that he loves are in agony.

The Duke and Duchess had been married for 5 years and after many failed attempts at ensuring an heir, they were finally welcoming the coveted baby boy. Their betrothal had been set up solely by Carlisle's father and had been put into place when the children were both small. Regardless of feelings, there was no choice in the matter accept to make the best of life- as many others of the times did.

Duke Cullen drained the last drop of wine from his goblet and set his tome down on the dark-stained mahogany table. Placing his hands on the arms of the large leather chair in which he was sitting, he arched his back, stretching the fatigue out of the muscles of his body. As he stood, he gazed into the fireplace at the crackling and smoldering logs. His mind wandered to thoughts of traveling the world and seeing sights thousands of miles away. He wondered of the events of his life that had lead him to this point and their influence on his new child. He wondered if the same thoughts and feelings that plagued him were to be passed on. But those thoughts were soon interrupted by a knock at the door. Carlisle shook his fantasies away as he walked to across the room to a small table covered in wine bottles from the best vineyards in France. As he refilled his wine glass, his wife's screams and cries were replaced with the cries of a newborn child.

"Come in," he said over his shoulder.

A lithe, strawberry-blonde haired woman, barely in her twenties and dressed in a black blouse and skirt, with black shoes and a white apron, walked into the library. She was the epitome of beauty and charm. Her bright blue eyes scanned the room in awe, much as they did every time she entered the room, seeming to soak up and retain the small amount of ambiance of the study to add to her own loveliness.

"Mi lord, milady Esme requests your presence in the Master Bedroom," she said her eyes shining brightly. After a nod of his head, Carlisle turned to move out the door, but the serving girl blocked his path. "And if it pleases mi lord, I request your presence later, as well," she said, her voice quieter and more seductive.

"Tanya," he said in a soft tone, "today is the day of my child's birth, and my wife is asking for me. I am required to be with my family. Would you leave your child's side on the day of his birth to be with a man simply for pleasures of the flesh?" he asked, stroking her cheek and wiping away the single tear that had begun to fall. "No, my dear, sweet Tanya, you wouldn't. You would stay with your family, because you care more about them than you do sinful contact outside the institute of marriage. You are young and beautiful, but you lack wisdom in some areas. Tonight, I will not share your bed, nor will you share mine. Tonight, I will be with my wife and child."

With that being said he let her go and kissed her on the forehead, sending chills down her spine. He turned as he entered the hallway, and looked at her.

"Why don't you stay here, tonight? There are many books here, and I have, on many occasions, seen you gaping in awe and daydreaming of the wonders to be found within these tomes of knowledge. I shall... tutor you in all subjects, so that you may tutor my children when they are of the age to be educated."

"Really, mi lord? Would you really teach me about everything in the books here? Every night?"

"Yes, my Tanya. Every night," he said with a devious smile that sent her into a fit of the giggles. "We will have to make a noblewoman out of you, in more than just the bedroom."

The Duke took his leave of his mistress, Tanya, and rushed down the hallway, past ancients tapestries and portraits of his predecessors, to the grand staircase in the foyer. He took the wooden stairs two at a time, never touching the dark-stained banister as he made his way to the second floor. Out of the large, ornate, Master Bedroom door stepped a tall gentleman, perhaps in his late fifties, wearing a dark brown suit and shoes, and carrying a black leather bag.

"Ah, Duke Cullen," said the older man.

"Please, Dr. Voltouri, call me Carlisle."

"Ah, yes. The Duchess has been calling for you, Carlisle. Your son has arrived, healthy and full of life. If you need me to stay for any reason... "

"No, no, doctor. You have done more than enough tonight. Go home and rest. You deserve it."

"As you wish, mi lord," the doctor said with a bow. When he looked up, though, Carlisle had his hand offered and a smile on his face.

"Good sir, you do a friend an injustice by resorting to such formalities. Please, we are friends, so let us shake hands as friends do, and never think of ourselves as anything but."

Dr. Voltouri shook the Duke's hand and smiled warmly. "By the way, Carlisle, call me Marcus."

"Marcus, it is then. Come by tomorrow evening for dinner. Bring your wife with you. We shall have a dinner party and discuss business, politics, or whatever else we may choose. What do you say?"

"Carlisle, it would be an honor to dine with a man as generous as you. But, it is getting late, and my wife will surely have my head on the block if I allow her dinner to get cold."

"Certainly, Marcus. Go. Be with your family. I shall see you tomorrow. Say, six o'clock?"

"Six would be fine, Carlisle. See you tomorrow," Marcus said as he picked up his medical bag. He walked down the hallway, a rather awkward gait caused by a broken leg when he was but a boy. Carlisle looked after him, smiling, for but a moment, before opening the door to the Master Bedroom and stepping within.

Inside, the room was enormous. Tall, vaulted ceilings rose fifteen feet, giving the room a barely audible echo effect. The white, satin curtains hanging to the sides of the single-pane, Victorian windows were a shocking contrast to the dark brown, wooden walls. The vanity mirror reflected the Duke's image as he walked through the door and moved to the four-poster bed where his wife and newborn son were trying to rest, while maids and servants hovered around them like vultures ready to feast, just trying to get a good look at the baby.

"Come, now, all of you. The Duchess has had a very trying day, and all you want to do is cluck around like hens in a hen house. Rest is what she needs. Rest and time alone with her husband and son."

Carlisle's voice was booming, especially in the bedroom, but wasn't unkind. Today was too joyous a day to be anything but kind and gentle. The hardwood floor came alive with the sound of shoes clicking along it, as the help hurried to finish their duties and leave.

The Duke smiled, "There will be plenty of time to gawk over the baby tomorrow. Tonight, though, let them rest. And once you've finished your duties, you will have the rest of the night off. You have earned it."

The servants all bowed and scurried out the bedroom door, though the last to leave turned and looked at the Duke with brown eyes nearly in tears. An inaudible thank you was all that she could muster. The duke smiled warmly and nodded as she left. He then turned to face the bed where his wife and child laying, looking into each others eyes. The Duchess had tears streaming down her face, tears of joy. The Duke moved to the bed and leaned over, seeing his own eyes stare back at him for the first time. His eyes welled up as he simply said, "Hello, Edward," to his son.

"Edward Anthony Cullen. That is his name, mi lord," said the duchess, her voice tired from childbirth.

"Milady, you have done a wondrous thing, bringing a child into this world. And you, my son," he said, gently taking the child into his own arms, "you will do wondrous things when you are old enough. You will go to Oxford, the finest school to ever exist, and you will marry a beautiful lady, and have many children, and raise them as you will be raised; strong, intelligent, and capable of great things." He gently handed little Edward back to his mother and asked, "Is there anything you need, my love?"

"Well, I am rather hungry. I haven't eaten since yesterday."

"Of course, my dear, what would you like?"

"The manner of food matters not, mi lord. Only that it is edible, do I ask."

"Of course, milady. I shall have your personal servant bring it up." he said as he walked to the door and out into the hallway. He moved to the room next to the Master Bedroom and knocked. An older woman, maybe in her mid-forties, with dark eyes and hair, opened the door. "Yes, mi lord?"

"Barbara, the Duchess would like to eat now. Do be a friend and bring her something from the kitchen, would you?"

"Certainly, mi lord. I shall go at once."

"Thank you, Barbara. I don't know what we would do without you."

She smiled, stepped out into the candle-lit hallway, and made her way to the kitchen to find something suitable for the Duchess to eat. The Duke watched after her, wondering what they would do if she weren't around to tend to the mundane tasks of the household. He again shook himself out of his reverie and made his way back to the Master Bedroom. The Duchess had just laid Edward down in his crib as Carlisle walked in.

"Barbara is getting you..."

Esme cut him off abruptly with a moderate shush, "He just went to sleep. Please, don't wake him."

"Darling, you should be in bed. You've just given birth."

"Carlisle, please do not patronize me. I may be a woman, but a little thing like childbirth isn't going to stop me..." her voice trailed off as she began to faint. Carlisle rushed to her side and caught her before her body hit the floor. He picked her up and carried her to the bed laying her down and covering her up. He then moved to the mahogany rocking chair next to the crib and sat down and rocked himself to sleep watching over his son and wife. Even when Barbara came in with the Duchess' food, he didn't stir. Barbara simply smiled and woke the Duchess up so that she could eat. There was no conversation, for Esme was too overcome with fatigue, and Barbara had learned early to not do anything to overexert the Duchess. Esme ate a few bites then passed out again, her body not ready to be awake after her ordeal. Barbara took the dishes and serving platter and left the bedroom, heading for the kitchen.

On her way, she heard sounds coming from the library, so she opened the door and gave a peek inside. She saw Tanya sitting by the fireplace, reading by the light of the fire and giggling at the manifestations of the book in her imagination. Barbara simply shook her head and continued to the kitchen, dropped off the dishes, and went back to her quarters to get some rest.

Tanya, on the other hand, stayed up until the sun awakened and made a bid for its rightful place in the sky and forced the stars and the moon to acquiesce to its request. When she finally slept, she had read nearly half of the large book of Greek mythological tales she found on the second shelf of one of the many the study bookcases. She had read about Pygmalion, the Greek gods, and all the tales in between. Her mind reeled at her new found knowledge and she slept fitfully, jumping from one tale to another in her dreams.

_This was it. She had been hemmed in by a Minotaur in a corner of the labyrinth and was about to be devoured by the beast. The Minotaur's evil grin chilled her to the bone as it reached its clawed hand toward her and took hold of her shirt. The Minotaur shook her like a rag doll, all the while growling her name in its bestial and demonic tambour. _

"_Tanya. Tanya. Tanya…" it growled. Then, the beast picked her up and tossed her into a pit near her. She dropped like a rock, falling ever farther down into the heart of the Earth. The ground was coming up quickly and she was going to smash into it at full speed with nothing to break her fall._ _ Suddenly, her body lurched to a stop six feet from the ground. She thought to herself, Well, what next? She heard the Minotaur as if he were right behind her, growling her name, "Tanya. Tanya. Tanya…", as she started to fall again._

Tanya awoke by falling off the couch at Carlisle's feet in a heap. Sweat poured off her brow and she was breathing heavily. Carlisle looked at her with a mixture of worry and compassion.

"Are you alright, Tanya? You were screaming and I thought something was wrong."

"Yes, mi lord. I-I'm fine. Just a nightmare. I'll be alright."

"Good, my dear. It is nearly five o'clock and I have guests coming soon. Go and wash up before they arrive."

Tanya left the room, stumbling a bit and still groggy from her fitful slumber. Carlisle stayed in the study and began to tidy up by replacing the mythology volume back on the shelf. He then stirred the embers of the fire long since gone out and retrieved his wine goblet so as to take it to the kitchen. The imaginations of these young girls, he thought, are enough to stir emotion in a dead man.

An hour later, Dr. Voltouri arrived with his wife, Didyme, for the dinner planned the evening before. A full table was set with roasted pork, venison, and poached pheasant, along with various vegetables and desserts. Dr. Voltouri was astonished at all the food.

"Carlisle, I'm amazed at all of this. It looks more like a state dinner than a meal between friends."

"This is how I treat my friends, Marcus. You worked hard yesterday, and should be rewarded accordingly. This is the least I can do. Besides, when was the last time that you and your wife have had an evening out?"

"You do have a point. It's been almost ten years since we've gone out for anything."

"My point exactly. You should get out more often. In fact, after dinner I'll have a carriage waiting to take the two of you to the theater. I hear that the London Players are performing 'A Tale of Two Cities' this month."

"Really? Well, no, Carlisle. I couldn't…"

"I insist, Marcus. A token of my gratitude for everything you've done for my family."

"I regret to say that my thanks are all I can give in return."

"Your thanks are more than deserved, Marcus. But, I digress. Come; let us feast the feast of kings."

Both men laughed heartily and made their way into the dining room, where Didyme Voltouri and several servants awaited them.

The Duchess, however, was not in attendance, for she was tending to her newborn child, Edward. She felt something was amiss, but passed that feeling off as exhaustion from childbirth, and put her dark thoughts in the back of her mind as she looked upon the life she had carried for nine months in her womb.

Little Edward looked back at her with sleepy, bright green eyes, gave a small and pitiful whimper before drifting off into sleep. Esme laid young Edward in his crib, and smiled softly as she watched him sleep for a short time before floating away to the land of dreams, herself. After her fainting spell the day before, the crib had been moved to the side of the bed so that she could take care of the baby and not exert her pain wracked and fatigued body. As she slept, she was awakened by a fit of coughing. Taking a handkerchief from the nightstand, she covered her mouth and tried to stay as quiet as possible so as not to wake the sleeping child. The coughing fit didn't worry her, for she had had them before, but now they were getting worse and more frequent, and, when she pulled the handkerchief away from her mouth, she found flecks of blood, contrasting to the white, monogrammed cloth in her hand.

**A/N: I know that this chapter and the introduction are very short, especially in comparison to the rest of the story. However, I felt the need to set up the main character and also some characters that are reoccurring. I will say that this is not a historical piece, most of the story will take place in the last 50 years. -NT**


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